


Smoke and Mirrors

by DrakkHammer



Series: One Heart Beating for Two [1]
Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Blow Jobs, Britchell, Feels, First time with a man, Frottage, M/M, Slow Build, slow hand sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:50:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakkHammer/pseuds/DrakkHammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smoke and mirrors has been the description of Anders' life up until this point. No one knows who he really is because he keeps it all hidden--showing people what they want to see, or what it is convenient for them to see. The selfish womanizer who cares for no one but himself. Greedy and immature, with a stunted conscience and no interest in changing. When he meets John Mitchell he spends three days wearing his own skin...being the real Anders. It's both terrifying and exhilarating. But he has to get on that plane for Norway and leave everything he discovered behind.  </p><p>Mitchell's evening started out with a pickup and ended with tears as he watched a man he cared for fly out of his life. Was the time they spent together just more smoke and mirrors?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Mirrors

John Mitchell stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and wiped his lips again. Who the fuck ever thought up flavored lipstick? It tasted like shite and not at all like whatever flavor it was supposed to be. The girl had insisted on kissing him like they were on some kind of date. Well, maybe it was for her, but for him it was just dinner—no date included. He spat once and continued down the sidewalk toward the pub. 

George and Nina had both been ragging on him and then Annie had started in. The nightmares were keeping them all up. He screamed in Annie’s face last night when she’d come to check on him and frightened her so badly that she hadn’t retuned until mid-afternoon. Going cold turkey might work for drug addicts, but it wasn’t going so well for one tall skinny vampire. George had threatened to stake him just so he could get a good night’s sleep which just pissed Mitchell off. But when Nina came home crying because she’d been reprimanded at work for not being able to pay attention to some intricate orders, that was the final straw. He’d felt bad enough about that, but then they all ganged up on him and here he was, well-fed and thoroughly disgusted with himself.

George had found out about an under-under-ground club when a girl came in to the ER a quart low and needing a blood transfusion. She was still in the ER swing room and was feeling much better by the time George had come around to do some cleaning up. In spite of still feeling dizzy, or perhaps because of it, she over-shared and told him all about the brill club she’d been to and how real vampires came now and again and even the ones who weren’t real were gorgeous and it was so sexy hot to have them bite your neck and, ohmigod, drink your blood… George stayed only long enough to get the location of the club and then made a fast exit before she could—ohmigod—share anything else.

Once he’d told Annie and she’d told Nina there was no living with them. They didn’t have any problem with him drinking blood as long as he didn’t kill anyone. If there were girls who—ohmigod—got off on it, then so much the better. Mitchell had been dressed by Annie who even straightened his collar.

“You are so gorgeous when you wear black and white, Mitchell. The girls will go crazy for you.” She tugged at his jacket and he resisted the urge to swat her. Instead he smiled at her.

“Wish me luck with this, won’t you?”

She noticed that the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t be nervous, it’ll go just fine. If it doesn’t, come back here straight away and we will sort it out.”

He gave her puppy-dog eyes. “Can’t I just stay here and watch telly?”

She put her hands on her hips and did her best “mom” impersonation. “No telly for you until you do what you need to do. We’re all in this together and we can’t take another night with no sleep.”

“I could just stay away,” his voice was very soft and he tugged at his right glove.

She snorted. “And have us up all night for the worrying? That would gain nothing, so be a good boy and…”

“Go take my medicine.” He tried to look cheeky and half way succeeded. 

She kissed him on the forehead, gave him a little hug and turned him toward the door. “Have a nice time.”

“Sure,” he nodded “I’ll just go and do that. I’ll probably have a beer afterward. In fact I’ll probably have a lot of beer afterward, so don’t wait up for me.”

“Do you have your key?” she asked, reluctant to stop mothering him. She liked mothering all of them, it gave her purpose. She smiled when he held up his key and allowed him to leave with no more fussing. She watched the door close, heaved a rather sad sigh and went to make a cup of tea.

 

*****

 

The light from the pub was beckoning. The Guinness sign was a siren’s call promising him the dark strong liquid that would chase the taste from his mouth and eventually the guilt from his mind. He slid onto the barstool accidentally jostling the patron in the next seat.

“Hey, watch it, you igg,” came the offended complaint in strangely accented English. 

The Irishman looked over to see a blond man of medium height, frowning as he wiped the spilled martini from his hand. The vampire’s heavy brows pulled down as he watched. What was an “igg” and who the hell drank a martini in an Irish pub?

The blond looked at him, then looked at the mirror and then back at Mitchell. The vampire was always careful to sit at this side of the bar where there was so much piled up that it blocked the fact that he cast no reflection. He wondered for a moment if the blonde guy had noticed somehow.

“Sorry about spilling your drink,” he said quickly in hopes of distracting his neighbor. “Let me buy you another.”

The blonde waved it off. “It’s ok, tastes like crap anyway. English vodka sucks.”

Mitchell smiled at him. “You’re in an Irish pub, mate. You shouldn’t be drinking that crap anyway.” He beckoned to the bartender, “Bring my friend here a Guinness, if you please.”

Moments later a large glass of dark liquid topped by a thick layer of foam appeared in front of the blond. He started to pick it up, but Mitchell stopped him. “Let it rest for a minute or two and it will taste better. 

The blonde looked quizzically at the shamrock artfully drawn onto the foam and smiled. He turned to Mitchell and held out his hand, “Anders Johnson, here in your lovely city on business.”

He shook the man’s hand, noticing the firm grasp and the perfect length of the greeting. He was wearing an expensive pale blue dress shirt and light gray suit pants with a tie stuffed into the back pocket. Salesman, probably, the vampire thought. “John Mitchell, but everyone just calls me Mitchell. What kind of business are you in?”

“Advertising, actually. I have my own firm. I just need to make some connections while I’m in England and one is here in your quaint city.” Anders was turning on the charm, but wasn’t quite sure why. The lanky Irishman wasn’t dressed as if he’d be any help to either Anders’ business or his quest. He took an exploratory sip of his Guinness, eyes getting bigger as both the alcohol and the flavor hit his tongue and then smiled. “That is ixcellent.”

Mitchell, cocked his head. “Do you mean ‘excellent?’”

Anders waved his hand apologetically as he took another large sip. “I guess I should mention I’m from New Zealand.” He turned the e into an I, so Mitchell heard “minchon.”

“Ah,” the first comment made sense now…he’d been called an ‘egg.’ The vampire laughed. “Well, I’m from Dublin and buggered if I can say this,” he held up one finger. “First.” Two fingers. “Second.” Three fingers. “Turd.” They both burst out laughing. 

Anders allowed himself to relax. He didn’t have to prove himself or do anything other than drink. He didn’t have to talk to the tall skinny guy who’d plopped down beside him, but he found that he was enjoying his company. It was nice to talk with someone who didn’t know him and had no expectations. The Bragi part of him that so often pushed him into doing stupid things was blessedly silent. There were times when he wasn’t sure he wanted to turn into the god. The power would be sweet, but it would come at a price. He finished his Guinness and motioned for the bartender to bring them both another round. Everything came at a price. Power, or good ale. 

Three lovely dark glasses of Guinness, later they had shared life stories—or as much of Mitchell’s as he was willing to tell a stranger. Anders, on the other hand, was a friendly drunk and had shared his family woes with the slight exception of his being the reincarnation of the Norse god Bragi. Having been one of several children the vampire was able to sympathize with family problems, at least as long as he didn’t think about how much he’d love to have seen his brothers again. The Kiwi seemed an odd mix of hating his brothers and loving them passionately. Finally Mitchell figured out that a constant blend of snide insults and prideful stories was just how Anders rolled. He reminded the vampire of the hedgehogs in his mother’s garden—both prickly and adorable. He blinked twice at the thought that the blonde was adorable. As if sensing his thought Anders turned and looked at Mitchell, dimples forming happy punctuation around his smile and his eyes shining turquoise in the bar lighting. This, thought Mitchell, must be why clients as well as his brothers put up with him. It was hard to remember snark in the presence of that brilliant smile.

Two well stacked blondes came into the pub chattering like magpies and sat at the other end of the bar. Both men watched them as they sashayed their way past, admiring the curves, the hair and the general sauciness of women who were beautiful and knew it.

Anders turned to Mitchell and winked. “Would you look at the racks on those two.” The comment was insulting, the tone he used even more so. He turned to the brunette, his gaze level and not at all playful. “If you want them I can have them for us in a New York minute.”

Mitchell’s brow went up. “A New York minute, is that different than a Bristol one?” 

“It’s like the speed of light.” Bragi was currently steering the ship. He snapped his fingers and turned to look at the women again.

“I don’t think so, mate,” the Irishman said shaking his head. “I’m not in the mood to deal with them tonight. Besides they don’t look exactly easy.” That’s all he’d need to finish of the night. True, he’d fed so the hunger wasn’t driving him, but he just didn’t trust himself with women any more. He’d been brought up to respect and protect them and now was so far away from the wide-eyed boy whose dad had “the talk” with that he couldn’t even remember what that lad looked like any more. 

Bragi looked disappointed for a moment and then laughed. “All women are easy,” he said dismissively. Mitchell shot him an evil look, but he ignored it.

“Not into women?” the question was so soft he barely heard it and he could not make out the words that followed. They were said too softly and ran together as if someone were speaking behind their hand. Politely, he leaned forward and listened trying to hear, but it didn’t help. 

Giving it up as a lost cause, he sat up. “I’m sorry but I didn’t quite get that.”

“Get what?”

“What you just said. You were mumbling.” Mitchell looked around and then back at Anders. “There’s too much noise in here.”

The blonde just sat there looking at him as if he had suddenly started speaking Martian. “You said I was mumbling?”

Mitchell took another sip from his glass. “Yeah. Look if you have something private to tell me this isn’t the best place, ya know?”

“Mumbling…” Anders looked at the vampire and then at his glass. He looked puzzled for some reason. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He stared into the glass as if he expected it to turn into a scrying crystal. As Mitchell watched him with a puzzled frown he emptied his glass and then pushed it away, beckoning to the bartender. “Another round for myself and my deaf friend who doesn’t seem to have washed the shit out of his ears this morning.”

“Fuck you,” Mitchell said, not entirely joking.

“Mmm…you’re welcome.” Anders turned and looked at him. He had an odd look halfway between interested and sad. He turned, looked at the blondes and then with a look of resignation, bent his head and stared at the bar, shutting it all out. Puzzled, Mitchell sipped his own drink and remained silent.

Bragi, insulted, had withdrawn. There wasn’t going to be any fun tonight so why bother. He retreated into that part of Ander’s mind that he’d fashioned into what he remembered of Asgard. It wasn’t real but it was better than sitting at the bar with the mortal side of him feeling maudlin. He fucking hated it when Anders got like that. He’d be glad to give the mortal the boot and rule again.

Mitchell ignored him and sat sipping at his ale. After a time, he stopped sulking, or whatever it was that he’d been doing, and turned to the vampire and smiled. “Sorry for being a prick,” I’m so used to the role I’m forgetting I’m not back home. 

The Irishman gave him a long look. “You’re a long way from there. Why don’t you just relax and be yourself?”

It wasn’t a bad suggestion. Maybe he should just give himself permission to be the person he couldn’t be back in Auckland. The Kiwi took a long swallow of his Guinness and smiled. 

It was nearly 1am according to the clock across the room. Combined with the martinis he’d had the Guinness was floating the Kiwi on a mellow sea of happy. He looked at the bartender expectantly, but the man had looked at Mitchell instead and frowned. The look clearly said get your friend home before he falls off the stool. Mitchell heaved a sigh. First the hint at the club with the strawberry lipstick and roaming hands and now this. What an evening this was turning out to be. 

He put his arm around Anders and smiled. “It’s time to go back to your hotel, mate.”

The blonde looked up at him and frowned. “But you’re not my type,” bursting out laughing at his own joke. He looked into the vampire’s warm chocolate eyes and blinked. He felt his cheeks color and was glad for the dim light in the pub.

“Well I don’t fancy you either,” Mitchell said easily, “but we’re done here. The night is getting older by the minute and so are we. What say we pack it in and do this again tomorrow night?” He practically lifted the Kiwi off the stool and set him firmly on the floor. He was about five inches shorter than the vampire, but solidly built. There were muscles under the dress shirt. If he had to hazard a guess he’d say Anders was into some sort of martial arts since he didn’t look like a gym rat.

“Where are you staying?” Mitchell asked as he pointed Anders toward the door.

The Kiwi pulled his key out of his pocket and held it out to Mitchell. “’S right around the corner. Practically. Not far anyway. I’m not that drunk. I’ve been worse. I just need some fresh air.”

Mitchell took the key and redirected Anders when he started to turn the wrong way coming out of the pub door. They walked sociably to the hotel, noting that it was one of the more expensive ones in town and up to the Kiwi’s room. Mitchell unlocked the door and escorted Anders in. The god headed straight for the mini-bar and cranked open a toy-sized bottle of vodka. Tipping it up, he drained it in seconds. The vampire stood watching him in a combination of awe and WTF.

“You aren’t going to have any liver left if you keep drinking like that.”

Anders eyed the rest of the toy bottles of booze with a rueful smile on his face. “That just might be the plan.”

Easing his way across the room, Mitchell placed himself between the Kiwi and the liquor. “I don’t think you came all this way just to kill your liver, Anders. You’ve been on about something since I met you.”

The shorter man backed up and ran a hand over the side of his face and then up through his hair. He was nervous and it was showing badly. Bragi had come forth in the pub but for some reason his sweet talk hadn’t worked. This whole thing was a fiasco, the quest, his being in fucking Bristol, England, his just plain still being alive.

He turned suddenly and looked up at Mitchell his blue eyes shading to gray with stress. “I’m a fuck-up and a prick and the guy nobody wants to have around. Hell, most of the time I don’t even like me. The only things I have in my life that would miss me if I died are my goldfish and then only until someone else fed them.”

Mitchell had that ‘bolt for the door’ urge, but suppressed it. “Maybe you could…uh…trying being less of a prick?” he suggested weakly.

“I don’t know if I know how. I think it’s a reflex.” He went over and pulled the curtain back looking out of the window at the lights of the city. “I can get any woman I want. I just can’t keep her for more than a day or two, sometimes not even that long. It’s all empty and it’s all wrong.” He rested his head against the glass eyes closed feeling as if he wanted to cry. Fuck the alcohol making him maudlin, fuck being bossed around by “my mother the tree,” fuck being in rainy England. Just…fuck…

“What do you want?” Mitchell’s voice was low, it was the one he used when he was talking George down when things got bad. “What do you want out of life? You need some place to start deciding what you want to do.”

Anders looked at Mitchell and then back at the lights below him. “I don’t know why I dragged you up here. I’m the one that’s confused. Fuck it. Go home, mate.”

Completely mystified, the vampire walked over to stand next to him. He always had this urge to help. He liked the blonde. They’d had a good time talking and the Kiwi had bought most of the drinks. He put his hand on Anders’ shoulder, “Look, whatever it is, just say it. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”

The Kiwi looked up at him, crystal blue eyes huge with worry. “Yeah,” he said softly. “But will _you_ feel better when I tell you how attracted to you I am?

Mitchell just froze, his mouth open, his eyes wide. He didn’t move his hand from Anders’ shoulder. He just let it rest there forgotten.

“Well, at least you didn’t punch me, that’s something,” the voice was soft but the tone was harsh. “I probably deserve it though.”

The vampire’s eyes narrowed and he thought desperately trying to find the right words. “Why? Why would you think that? Why would you deserve to get punched?”

“I don’t know about here, mate, but in Auckland you don’t just invite a near-stranger up to your hotel room and then come onto him.” Anders’ laughed without humor, the sound brittle in the silent room.

Mitchell remembered that his hand was still on the blonde’s shoulder and moved it to nervously rake his finger through his own hair, dragging curls down onto his face. Eyes half hidden with hair, he examined the rug for a long moment before turning to Anders. 

“You didn’t really come onto me. Bristol isn’t the bright center of the universe, but we aren’t barbarians. You like who you like and what you like. There’s no shame in that.” He had a sudden need to tell this man that he had done things to truly be ashamed of and that wanting someone you were attracted to was certainly the least of them. They were both drunk, it was past 1am and this was a stupid conversation.

The Kiwi shook his head and winced. “I can’t believe I’m doing this…standing here talking to you like this.”

“Why, because someone somewhere says that it’s wrong?” Mitchell asked softly.

He closed his eyes for a long moment and then looked back at the vampire. Those huge chocolate eyes met his. He saw pain and longing and something he couldn’t identify. They were reassuring and kind. He didn’t have much kindness in his life, either giving or receiving. He hated his life. Why was he so worried about changing one small piece of it in a town that probably wasn’t even on the map?

“You don’t know what it’s like being me. I got assigned the role of fuck-up when I was a kid. It was easier to just accept what they told me. If they didn’t expect much then I didn’t get hit like my big brother did. He was always standing up to our dad, but it was easier to hide and listen to the yelling instead of risking myself to try to stop it. Mike got hurt that way, a couple of times pretty bad.” He snorted in self-derision. “I just hid in my room with my younger brothers and tried to distract them from what was going on.”

Mitchell didn’t know what to say. “Well that’s pretty important too. Kids can’t make adults stop fighting. They can’t…”

“I didn’t do shit,” Anders snapped. “I still don’t. Mommy sends me on an errand to the fucking other end of the world and I just dump my business and go. Just like I always did what she told me when I was little.” He scrubbed the back of his hand angrily at his eyes. “Just do what you’re told and you don’t get hurt. Do what they tell you to do. Be who they tell you to be.”

He looked up, eyes brimming with tears. “My whole life is smoke and mirrors. No one sees the real Anders Johnson. They only see who I let them see – the coward, the womanizer, the manipulator.”

“And who,” Mitchell asked, “is the real Anders Johnson?”

“The guy who is in a hotel room with a man he’s just met and is confused as hell.” Anders turned to look up at him. “What if I did come onto you? What then?” His eyes were huge, the blue almost painfully bright, begging an answer that wouldn’t hurt too badly.

Mitchell closed his eyes for a moment and stood silently. He’d been with a few men in his time and some ways it was more comfortable. He didn’t get the urge to get blood-drunk like he did with women. He had more control and felt more self-assured because of it. When he opened his eyes he looked at the shorter man. He liked this guy, he’d drunk with him, talked with him and had seen parts of his soul he was sure he’d shown to no one. He looked at him steadily, letting his smile creep into his eyes to warm them. “Well, if you were coming on to me…I guess I might have accepted.”

He closed the distance between them with a step and put his hand on Anders’ cheek. He leaned down slowly, giving the Kiwi time to back out if he chose. He stood frozen looking up at Mitchell, memorizing the moment to be played back over and over again. He found himself leaning forward, stretching upward, lips slightly parted, eyes hooded, tongue moving to the front of his mouth in anticipation. 

When their lips touched he felt a tingle that sizzled down to his toes. He made no move to return the kiss, he just pressed his lips against Mitchell’s, opening them slightly to allow a tongue tip to slip in, teasing with its warmth and slickness. The brunette’s stubble grated across his chin, scraping the skin lightly. The kiss was different than any he’d ever had; it was firmer, the hands holding his face larger. The pure strength and maleness of his was almost overpowering. Instead of being alien—nothing had ever felt so right. He could feel himself trembling as tiny shocks cruised through him from his lips to his groin. It was amazing and he wanted more.

The vampire leaned down a little more and pressed the kiss inward, heating it up. His tongue slid into Anders’ mouth bringing the taste of Guinness, a hint of tobacco and a flavor that was all his own. Suddenly Anders couldn’t get enough of it. He met the invading tongue with his own, sliding and testing and tasting and sending every nerve in it into overdrive. He could hear his own breath sobbing as he pushed forward for more, his arms winding around his partner to pull him closer, hold him so there was no escape. When Mitchell broke the kiss and pulled back to nibble Anders’ lips, sliding his tongue sensuously over the perfect Cupid’s bow, he moaned audibly and felt his knees go weak. 

At length the Irishman pulled back and just stood with his arms around Anders, his face pressed against crisp golden curls. The shorter man buried his face into the vampire’s shoulder and just stood there holding him as if Mitchell were his only support in the world. He relaxed in a little as the arms holding him tightened and shifted to support him better and draw him against that tall lanky body.

When Anders felt that he could breathe again he looked up, “How about taking this to the bed?”

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I do. I think I’m finally deciding on my own who I am instead of letting everyone else do it for me.”

“Are you sure you are up for this? 

Anders nodded. He looked up, sapphire and chocolate their eyes met and held. “Yes. Let’s just lie down and see what happens?” 

Mitchell took his hand and led the way, flipping the light off as they passed it. The room was illuminated by a golden light from the large neon sign on the adjacent building. He left the blinds open so that there would be some light. He didn’t want Anders’ first time to be in the dark. If he was going to make a break with the past he couldn’t hide from what was happening. He had to embrace it, or not, but it had to be a conscious decision. 

Mitchell lay on the bed on top of the spread still fully clothed. He stretched out and tried to relax. Anders sat slowly on the side of the bed as though he was warring with himself about whether to proceed or not. He looked at Mitchell, who patted the bed next to him in invitation. Hesitating a moment, he took a deep breath and then lay back. He turned to face the man next to him and tried to smile. It wasn’t completely successful and it made him chuckle.

“I’m so fucked up.”

“Yeah you are,” Mitchell said smiling. “But so am I.”

He shifted position to lie more on his back and stretched out his arm. “Come here and cuddle.”

Anders slid over and pillowed his head in the crook of Mitchell’s arm. He willed himself to relax and lean into the slender muscular body next to him. He closed his eyes and felt the soft tickle of fingers stroking and playing with his hair. It was sexy and very tender. He heaved a contented sigh and felt the remaining tension drain from his body. After a few minutes he turned slightly toward his partner smiling as a strong arm bent across his chest, broad hand resting lightly on his breastbone. 

Anders’ breath evened out and the vampire thought his partner had fallen asleep. He started to shift his position only to be stopped by a hand sliding lightly across his chest. It continued to his back and then he felt himself pulled firmly toward the Kiwi. Anders looked up at him, eyes blue even in the dim light. They were slightly hooded and he blinked once and then wet his lips. Taking that as a signal, Mitchell bent over and kissed him gently. The arm around his back firmed up with toned muscle and he found himself pulled in hard, the kiss turning more demanding as tongue met tongue and teeth scraped lightly together.

Mitchell let himself be pulled onto the blonde and took his weight on his forearm, balancing as he positioned one leg between Anders’ thighs and rested his own groin against the firm muscles. It was one of his favorite things. It gave him such pleasurable access to his lover’s body while stimulating his own. With his other hand, he traced the line of the Kiwi’s face, cupping his jaw in a caress while he devoured his mouth. Anders arched up returning the kisses and asking for more.

At length, their breathing ragged, Mitchell pulled away and whispered, “You are wearing far too many clothes.”

“Not as many as you are,” came the reply as a hand slid up to tug at the over-shirt that he was wearing. 

Now was not the best time to explain why he always felt cold. A hitch and a shrug and the white shirt fell away leaving only the black T-shirt. He grabbed the bottom of it and yanked it over his head tossing it carelessly on the floor. He then leaned over and helped his partner unbutton his shirt. This was fun. He caressed each bit of skin the buttons revealed, intrigued to find that the Kiwi’s chest hair was so tightly curled it was nearly pepper corn. It felt crisp under his fingers, unique and very tempting. His explorations were put on hold when the Anders slid his own hands over the Irishman’s chest, scraping his nails gently, exploring the hair he found and the velvet nipples.

Feeling more aggressive, Anders pulled Mitchell to him and found that his lips fit perfectly in the hollow of the taller man’s neck. He sucked gently raising a small bruise as he nursed the tender flesh sending sensory shocks up and down the vampire’s neck. It was Mitchell’s turn to moan as he gave himself over to the sensation. Anders’ beard scraped gently and his warm moist lips explored, teasing, teeth lightly scraping, savoring his partner’s intense masculine scent and taste. 

Anders slid his mouth to the front, to let his tongue trace the vampire’s Adam’s apple, finding his neck very different from a woman’s. The stubble was rough against his tongue as he explored the hard mound of cartilage. He trailed kisses down to the hollow in front, tasting the salt of dried sweat as he teased the strands of chest hair that curled invitingly. Mitchell moaned softly, his hand ruffling Anders’ hair, encouraging his exploration, the other slipping around the shorter man’s back to hold him close.

After several minutes, Mitchell crouched a little, bringing his face in line with Anders’ and claimed another kiss. The Kiwi instinctively rose on tiptoe and pressed against him, feeling the heat of Mitchell’s erection as it pressed into his abdomen. He turned just enough to be able to press his groin against the vampire’s leg, grinding slowly, savoring the feeling and the difference of being with a male. It was intoxicating, almost like the rush he got when he reached that level of inebriation that let him stop worrying about anything but pleasure. 

Mitchell’s hands slid down the blonde’s chest, tweaking his nipples gently at first and then firmer as his partner responded with a moan. He scraped his fingernails over that marvelous hair, pulling it straight and then feeling the curls snap shut against his palm. It was a unique sensation and he knew he was going to want to play with that incredible chest hair for a long long time. Not that he was going to get the chance…

Anders hands had wandered down to Mitchell’s waistband and he was fumbling one-handed with the button. The taller man pulled his hands away long enough to unfasten the button and yank the zipper down. He found his hands caught and held and then drawn to the other set of trousers. He unfastened the button and started to push them down. The dress slacks being looser, one shake of Anders’ hips sent them sliding to the floor where he made a valiant attempt to kick them off over his shoes.

His partner laughed and said, “I have a better idea.” Pushing gently, he toppled Anders to the bed and then popped his shoes off tossing them across the room. He quickly shed his own shoes and pants, slid his briefs off and then sat down on the bed and slipped his arm over the Kiwi’s shoulders. He gave him a brief hug and then let his hand slide down the center of Anders’ back, he grasped one cheek lightly and squeezed.

“Let’s lie down and take this nice and slow,” his brows lowered and his eyes were dark in the golden light. “You are beautiful and I don’t want to rush this.”

Anders was so nervous he felt as if his partner must be able to hear his heart racing. He’d dreamed of this, hot wet, aching dreams that left him pressing his tear-stained face into his pillow. He’d thought about it and then chased the thoughts away with vodka. He never thought in a million years he’d go through with it, not in a hotel with a man he’d just met. He turned to look at Mitchell, who was patiently watching him, and smiled. Neither his dreams or this thoughts could have conjured this gentle beautiful man who was so patient and so willing to help him make this a reality. 

He reached over and laid his hand on Mitchell’s cheek, holding him tenderly, then gently pulling him down for a long slow delicious kiss. They were both lying on the bed, Anders still wearing his boxers, his brunette friend was nude. The golden light from the window made the vampire’s normally pale skin glow, accenting his sleekness and the way the gathering of chest hair trickled down to his belly and then further down to that mysterious shadow that was just out of the Kiwi’s line of sight.

Mitchell rolled onto his side, propping himself up with his elbow to give him access. He kissed his partner tenderly and then started probing with his tongue. It slid across Anders’ teeth, over his tongue, where it stopped to do battle for a moment, and then back out to trace the curve of his lips. The kisses that the vampire rained upon him were wet, hot and very different from any he’d ever shared. They were bolder, hungrier, with that slick tongue licking and tasting and exploring his mouth and then down his neck to that infinitely tender spot just behind his right ear. Hot breath blew into his ear as it explored the pinna and then deeper, pulling back out to allow sweet whispers of how hot he was. 

“You are beautiful,” Mitchell whispered, his words barely louder than a breath. “Relax, let yourself enjoy this,”

Anders reached up and wound his fingers in Mitchell’s curls. He pulled him back down for another kiss. He loved the heat of it, the rise of passion. There was no dance, no holding back and yet he had no fear of what was to come. Something made him trust the man he was with completely. He’d dreamed of this for years and now it was finally upon him. Almost purring, he relaxed into it and thrust upward, deepening the kiss, reveling in the moan of his partner as his hair was tugged. 

When the kiss broke Mitchell trailed kisses mixed with nips just hard enough to make his partner’s skin tingle. He reached that sweet spot on his throat where he could have plunged sharp fangs though the soft skin. He found that urge wasn’t there at all. Somehow this man didn’t smell like food. He smelled of sweat and spice and pheromones, but he didn’t trigger the feeding urge. That was odd. Humans always smelled like food, but the part of his brain that might have pondered it was negated by the one that desired the golden god beneath him and it wasn’t as a snack. The vampire breathed in his scent and nestled his face against the unprotected neck, sucking gently, he raised a slight bruise and moved on. 

His progress across Anders’ chest was slow, his lips and tongue toying with those fascinating curls. When he finally moved on his found the man’s nipples to be hard and sensitive. It wasn’t that Anders had never had his nipples sucked before, but the near-abrasive scrape of scruff had never been part of it and Mitchell suddenly found his partner arching up moaning. He smiled to himself as he tongued first one nipple and then the other, nipping and pulling, just to the point of pain before backing off. As he sucked, he slid one hand slowly down Anders’ belly stroking and kneading the sensitive flesh, pulling at tensed muscles. The near explosion that happened when his hand slid down the inside of the Kiwi’s right thigh, brushing his testicles nearly catapulted him off of the bed.

“Do you like that?” he purred into Anders’ ear as he rearranged himself on the bed.

“Oh Jesus,” he whispered. “I…” his voice trailed off with wont of anything to say that could describe what he was feeling. 

“You’re still okay with this?” It was a moot point because his partner was making no attempt to stop and every effort to continue. His hands were holding the vampire firmly, moving every once in a while as if he was becoming bolder in increments.

There was a nod and the golden curls sounded like silk as his head moved on the pillow. Mitchell had only been in this territory once before. Virgins were not his thing. He preferred an experienced enthusiastic partner, but there was something about this man. He conveyed some of the same feelings that the Irishman had and still had about being with another man. If you are raised to believe that it is wrong, it is not so easy to cast off decades of indoctrination no matter how good it feels, or how right it seems. That’s why it was always easier to ignore it and relegate it to being a kink rather than think it might be what works best. A kink would make people laugh if they found out. Making the decision to cross the line would likely bring on the kind of ugliness that he just didn’t need in his life when he had enough already.

Pushing such gloomy thoughts into the attic of his mind, Mitchell leaned forward, kissed and licked willing lips briefly and then slid down his body to pay homage again to those pretty golden-pink nipples before starting the slow easy descent downward. 

When he got to the Kiwi’s abdomen, the muscles corded and bunched and he felt two strong hands on his shoulders, one sliding up to pet him and caress his cheek.

“You like?”

“Oh fuck…” Anders moaned. “Please.”

Mitchell bit the man’s abdomen lightly, teeth scraping the sensitive skin, tugging at the tight curls. “I like a man with manners.” His voice was muffled as his lips trailed on down.

Anders was up rock hard, the foreskin drawn nearly back, a tiny puddle of pre-come resting on his belly. Mitchell caught the shimmering pearl on his tongue, tasting the slight saltiness. One hand slid down to encompass and caress, while the other used a convenient hip to reposition himself. He leaned down and lightly kissed the tip, eliciting a sob from the head of the bed. His partner was holding perfectly still as if he was afraid to move, or perhaps to break the spell. The vampire smiled to himself, that wouldn’t last, he’d make sure of that.

Mitchell kissed the tip again, feeling it impossibly soft and slick against his lips. He probed the eye lightly, bringing forth a soft moan and a shiver. He let his lips wander around the head in tiny nips, grasping the edge of the foreskin and tugging lightly, then teasing under it with the tip of his tongue, brushing against super-sensitive tissue. This time the moan was louder, mixed with soft curses and the sound of breath whistling between clenched teeth. He knew the pleasure of this moment and sought to draw it out for his partner, to make it memorable. If there were regrets later they would be tempered by the pure pleasure of the experience.

When he bent and engulfed him fully, Anders thrust upward, his body trembling as if he was receiving tiny shocks to his muscles. He had been trying to block the thinking part of his mind and suddenly found that was no longer necessary. Rational though fled as sensation took over, slamming him upward to meet that source of such amazing pleasure. The vampire rode with him, moving to keep from choking but continuing to slide up and down, sucking gently, tongue sliding along the bottom of the shaft. He paused at the frenulum, teasing it expertly before sliding back down only to rise and repeat the sweet torture, his free hand encompassing the shaft rising and falling with his movements.

Anders was talking but he was unintelligible save for the occasional expletive. He didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted. Fortunately he didn’t have to. His partner had enough experience to lead the way. His fists gathered wads of the sheet and tore at it, digging into the mattress as if to hold himself down. His center was a whirl of pleasure that he could nether pinpoint nor define, he could only feel. 

His orgasm teased at the edges of his mind, he could feel his body responding, engorging further but it was too soon. Anders reached down and wound his fingers thorough Mitchell’s hair, gently pulling him away and then upwards toward the head of the bed. “Please, not yet.” 

The vampire slid upward following the hand entwined in his hair. When he got close enough Anders leaned up and drew him into a kiss. It was a messy, hot, erotic kiss with Anders’ tongue eager to taste himself on Mitchell’s mouth. He licked and sucked, nibbling on his partner’s lower lip and then sucking it for a moment, before tracing the slick cupid’s bow above it. He tasted different than a woman. He tasted good.

Mitchell held him tightly at first letting him lick and taste and then turning the kiss around, stepping up the heat and boring into the Kiwi’s mouth with his tongue sucking the very air from his lungs. He found himself whimpering, clinging to the larger man as if he were a life raft on the ocean. He felt his face lifted and turned and thoroughly explored. It all felt amazingly wonderful and it wasn’t until he had to stop to breathe that he pulled away to do some exploring of his own.

“My turn,” he whispered trying to sound confident. 

“Are you sure?” The vampire’s voice was husky and soft in his ear.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

He looked at the long lean body laid out on the sheets. It was so different from anything he’d ever experienced…anything he’d ever allowed himself to think about. There were muscles and angles where there should have been curves. Hair was everywhere. Clouds of soft ebony hair, straight and curly, long and short, beckoning his hand, begging to be petted and traced and teased. 

He laid a trail of tender kisses down Mitchell’s neck to his chest where he paused, the long soft hair unfamiliar beneath his tongue. He reached out and ran his hand over the terrain of Mitchell’s chest, stopping at his nipple. Flat and backed with pectoral muscle it was free of hair and the most amazing golden-pink. Hesitantly he slid his palm over it and then cupped it in his palm, squeezing gently and then more firmly as the brunette arched up against the caress. Slightly more confidant, he pinched the nipple lightly between thumb and forefinger, feeling it harden to a stiff little nub that swelled in his fingers. He pinched gently and pulled and twisted just the slightest smiling to himself as his partner moaned softly punctuating each new caress.

He nuzzled his way to the hard nipple and took it between his lips. It was flatter, harder and there was far less volume than with a woman, but he liked it. He liked the hard muscle and flat planes. He rested his cheek on the soft hair and just stopped for a moment to appreciate how right it felt. When he moved again it was to draw it between his lips. His tongue moved softly against it, then his teeth bit down gently and scraped, making it stand hard and swollen begging for more attention. 

At length Anders moved to the other nipple and then started kissing his way down Mitchell’s chest. He stopped at his navel to marvel how the hair flared out in a pool of dark softness. The blonde’s kisses paused for a moment and then started downward. A hand slid over his cheek to cup his face. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Mitchell whispered.

Anders nodded. “I want to. It feels right.” He was surprised at how right it felt. How eager he was to continue and explore the things he’d barely allowed himself to even dream about over the years. The hand slid over his beard and vanished, leaving him to move on or not as he chose.

He looked down and saw that his partner was up and hard, his cock angled toward his belly inches away from Anders’ face. He could smell him, warm and intensely male, very different from his past partners. Very erotic. Very tempting.

His kisses slid lower and Mitchell’s cock brushed Anders’ cheek. He stopped, lifted himself and just rested there looking at it. He was aware that he was being watched. He felt no pressure to do anything. It was a relief to know that when this time had finally come that he had a partner who would allow him to make his own decisions.

He leaned forward and took the Irishman’s heavy cock in his hand. It wasn’t as hot as his own but it was as hard and as heavy. Lifting it, he pressed it against his cheek, reveling in the softness of the skin and the hardness of the shaft. It was a miracle of bioengineering and it fascinated him. The Kiwi rubbed his cheek along the shaft scraping the surface lightly with his beard. He felt it twitch as if it has a life of its own and he held it tighter lest it escape. The tip was shimmering in the light from the window, the pre-come golden and inviting. Slowly, he bent his head and kissed the tip resting his lips there for a moment to allow his mind to catch up with what his body was doing. After a moment they synched and he darted his tongue out to taste — and found it tasted like him, only not quite. It was different and the difference made his own cock twitch in response. 

Slowly he licked the tip, delving into the eye and then in a swirl around the head causing his partner to groan and involuntarily thrust his hips up a little in response. Emboldened he licked harder, teasing at the foreskin, slipping beneath it to flick the tip of his tongue at the sensitive band of the frenulum. Another moan, this one deeper and longer. Anders took the head into his mouth sucking lightly and then taking a deep breath, slid down the shaft, taking as much into his mouth as he could. He held it, his tongue pressed against the bottom of the shaft, feeling tension of the muscle that it transmitted. It was cool and slick and hot and amazing and he loved every second of it. It was not as awkward as he’d imagined it or repellant has he had feared it would be. It was nice and he was enjoying himself as much as Mitchell was. 

Steadily he began to move up and down, his right hand moving to encircle the base to stimulate the part that his mouth could not engulf. The brunette’s abdominal muscles tensed with pleasure and Anders felt a flutter of long fingers as they ran over his hair, pulling the curls loose. He was urging his partner on without pressure and Anders took the hint sliding up and down at first slowly and then faster. At one point he realized he was in time with his partner’s breathing. He could feel it hardening and growing thicker increasing his desire to keep on going.

Abruptly the pull on his hair became firmer and then insistent. “Not yet.” The whisper was ragged, but the pull on his hair became harder and he relented sliding off the pulsing shaft. Giving it a kiss he slid his tongue down the side until he reached the soft wrinkled testicles at the base. Carefully he lifted them, licking and sucking trying to repeat what he remembered as being pleasurable. It was working because his partner moaned softly and approvingly. He allowed his hands to explore, sliding down sleek thighs and then up to the tender perineum. Mitchell gasped and instinctively spread his legs, allowing better access. 

Anders slid his moistened fingers down to tease the sensitive skin drawing shudders from his partner. He would have delved lower but Mitchell’s position blocked his quest and he didn’t move even when teased. The Kiwi shrugged, it was probably not the best idea on a first date anyway…if this could even be called a date. He moved back up sliding his tongue over the delicate scrotum and then blew on it, the cool air causing the brunette to jerk and own softly. 

He started to suck that tempting cock again, but a gentle hand pulled him upward.

“Come here, you,” the voice was husky and low, smoky with lust.

Anders came up and was immediately drawn into a passionate kiss. Mitchell shifted his body until it was on top of the blonde. He never broke the kiss, morphing it instead into licking and nipping that encouraged his partner to move with him. When he was done shifting position he was laying atop the Kiwi, one leg between his so that their erections rested together. Slowly he began to grind his hips, pinning their cocks together, trapping them between the soft heat of each other’s belly. He leaned down, captured Anders’ lips again and rocked slowly the friction of their bodies a delicious torture against his erection. 

The kiss never stopped. It intensified and then changed to gentle pecks that gave way to licks and nuzzles, but it was ongoing and so erotic Anders thought that he could come just from the kissing even if Mitchell held perfectly still. Bending his head the vampire kissed and licked down to the soft span of neck where the veins lay close to the surface and the artery scarcely deeper. He bit down…gently, teeth scraping, fangs held back. He sucked a small purple bruise to mark Anders as his, flicking the sensitive area with the tip of his tongue bringing moans and a soft sob from his partner. He wasn’t hungry, but this man smelled differently. He was not food. He prompted a hunger of a different kind, just as intense but not so deadly. The vampire bit down again and held that soft neck between his teeth as he ground himself toward orgasm.

Anders neck tingled shooting twinges down his body straight to the tip of his cock. It was pinned and every movement of the larger man stimulated it. The hair on their bellies scraped it gently, teasing with a sensation so different that all he could do was moan and twist and buck up against the strong tall man above him as he chased his own orgasm. 

When it hit, it was amazing. The intensity of his climax jolted through his body as if he was plugged into a wall socket. He was blind, head thrown back, aware he was making noise, but unable to hear it. The contractions shattered him, his pelvis shivering with them as one followed another, each one stronger and more powerful that the last until he felt as if he was made of pure electricity.He rode it down feeling as if he had harnessed a storm. He was aware that Mitchell had reached his own climax and that drove him even higher. He felt another pulse that started in his core and radiated outward in synch with his partner. 

When it was over he could barely breathe. The Irishman buried his face against Anders’ neck and held him tightly, barely giving him enough space to draw in lungfuls of air. It had been incredibly intense for both of them and they were loathe to relinquish the feeling, holding tightly onto it and each other. When the vampire moved there was the both the pain of loss and the amusing realization that they were glued together. 

Mitchell lifted off a bit and leaned down to kiss Anders tenderly. He fluttered kisses over his lips, cheeks and eyelids, so soft they could scarcely be felt. The god felt as if he had died and gone to heaven. He could never remember it being this good…this perfect. He always felt like he had to prove something. He was always directing the show and being the stud. This time he had just relaxed and let someone else be in charge. This time was amazing. 

He looked up at Mitchell and smiled. His lover’s curls had lost all sense of propriety and were tangled across his face covering one eye in a masculine version of the classic cover girl look. His eyes were black in the ambient light, reflecting softly, vanishing under long lashes only to reappear, the corners crinkling in a smile.

“Hey you, that was pretty spectacular,” he whispered gently, lips curving to join the smile in his eyes.

Anders leaned up to kiss him and then smiled lazily. “It was awesome, mate. Totally completely awesome.”

Mitchell kissed the tip of his nose. “So, do you come here often?”

Anders ran his fingers through the curls on Mitchell’s cheek, tracing the outline of his jaw. “Only with you.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” was the murmured response. He bent and captured a tender earlobe, worrying it carefully between his teeth. 

Hands started to explore again and lips moved, tongues swirled to tease until the Irishman finally groaned and admitted. “I don’t think I can do this again just yet, but I hate to give you up.”

“Then don’t.”

“We have to get up at some point, we are already glued together,” he pointed out being more realistic than he would have preferred.

“I’ve heard that hotels come with something called a shower,” Anders suggested archly.

“Mmm, modern technology is a wonderful thing,” Mitchell agreed.

He rolled off of Anders, both of them smiling as they peeled free of one another. He helped the smaller man up and then followed him into the bathroom. They both stood blinking in the light that Anders had snapped on and then burst out laughing. They had semen all the way up to their nipples. 

“Our two gun salute got a bit messy,” the vampire said wryly. 

Anders blushed beet red and couldn’t meet Mitchell’s eyes. The taller man took him in his arms and drew him into a kiss pressing their sticky bodies together. “It just means we were really good together.”

Between kisses Anders managed to say, “Yeah, we were, weren’t we?”

“The best,” He kissed the blonde tenderly. “Now about that shower…”

Anders had been nude with another man before but that was at a party and there were several women there. Being nude with one in the light in the close confines of a shower was something else. He felt a blush starting again and willed it away. He’d just done the most intimate of acts with this man, how could he possibly feel embarrassed? But he found he was fixing his eyes upward and not looking down.

Until a large soapy hand slid from his collar bone to his groin where it circled and stroked. He looked down and watched in mute fascination as Mitchell washed him, tenderly, cleansing away the dried and sticky semen that tangled in the crisp hair of his chest, belly and pubes. Although he would have sworn he was done in he felt himself rise to the occasion, swelling with blood, the heat and need returning. He looked up into liquid chocolate eyes and saw the smile and the approval. Somehow he still needed permission for this to be okay. He stood tiptoe and drew the brunette into a long slow kiss.

When he let go he soaped his hands and worked them over Mitchell’s long lean body exploring with his hands and his eyes. He wanted to see everything he’d touched in the darkness. His fingers trailed familiar territory and now his eyes explored as well. The beauty of his partner was exhilarating. There was not a spare ounce, everything was angles and planes and muscle covered with the most amazingly soft hair. 

He worked his way downward, touching stroking, lifting, testing. When he could reach no lower he dropped to his knees, barely aware that the shower had been turned so that the warm water rained against his back keeping him from chilling as he explored everything that the darkness had hidden from him.

Mitchell braced himself against the shower wall and watched, a slow smile curving his lips. He’d never been a part of anything like this before; it was infinitely sweet and amazingly erotic. 

The god worshiped the man in front of him. As he explored self-consciousness fled to be replaced by a sense of wonder. He lifted Mitchell’s cock and it slowly engorged, expanding and getting heavier in his palm. The head of it pressed against the foreskin, sliding it back to peek out and then to push into view. The shaft was velvet soft, yet firm and becoming harder with each touch. By the time he pressed his lips to the underside it had become heated steel that bobbed and pulsed seemingly with a life of its own. 

Enraptured, he slid a soft kiss along the shaft to burn his face in the wet clean hair at the base. It was a dark cloud sparkling with water droplets, engaging the Bragi part of his brain to spin poetic thoughts that were consumed by the fire that burst forth when he leaned back, took the shaft in his mouth and slid down it. Rising back up to lick and tease the head, toying with the exquisitely sensitive eye and frenulum. 

With a groan, the vampire leaned back and clenched his fists to keep himself from grabbing Anders’ hair and begging him for more. He had to let him proceed at his own pace even though that was sweet torture for Mitchell. Through hooded eyes he watched the Kiwi suck him deeply, seemingly intent on taking the whole of it down his throat. He finally coughed and backed off to a more reasonable depth, stroking the shaft with his other hand. He developed a rhythm that was pleasurable for them both. The brunette leaned his head back against the tile and allowed himself to drift to that pleasurable place where nothing is important except what is going on between your legs.

Anders was enjoying himself hugely. He hadn’t expected to. He’d been driven both by lust and curiosity to kneel, but now that he was doing what he’d barely admit that he’d dreamed about, it was better than anything he could have anticipated. The hardness of the shaft, the softness of the skin, the scent, the taste, created a sensory overload made him giddy. The more he sucked on Mitchell the more turned he was. He could feel himself engorging, the weight of his own erection teasing him. He reached down with one hand but quickly realized that the tub wasn’t made for balancing on one’s knees. He slid his hand up to grasp the vampire’s muscular thigh and steady his body as he worked on him harder.

The Irishman was close and he finally reached down and ran his hand down the side of Anders’ face to pull him away. “I’m almost there,” he whispered. “Come on up here.”

The blonde shook his head very slightly, one hand moving to lay his fingers over Mitchell’s hand. He was staying where he was…where he wanted to be. He leaned back, sliding off the shaft to look up at the Irishman, marveling at his beauty. “I’m ok,” he said smiling. “I really am, please…I want this.”

“If you’re sure.”

The answer was Anders reclaiming Mitchell’s cock and descending slowly, teasing him with hand and tongue, until the Irishman moaned and sobbed with every stroke. It spurred the Kiwi to greater efforts. That he had this man coming apart for him was amazing. He used every trick that he knew to give pleasure and was rewarded by hearing the moans turn into whispered curses and pleas in Gaelic. He glanced upward and saw that his partner was holding onto the towel bar for support, his head thrown back just lost in what he was feeling. Smiling to himself, Anders gave the sensitive head a few flicks with his tongue and then descended slowly to finish what he had started.

Mitchell’s orgasm seemed to come from his toes, he felt his legs tingle before it slammed into his cock like a express train. It roared over him, arching his body as he demanded more of his partner and got it. Anders grabbed his thighs and ass holding on as he sucked as hard as he could. Together they rode it out, partners in this astounding new experience. 

The Irishman’s legs trembled threatening to give way completely. He let himself slide down until he was kneeling in front of Anders. His eyes were smoky dark, the long lashes shading them. When he looked up it was straight into his partner’s soul. He held the gaze for a long moment and then leaned forward and gathered Anders into his arms for an embrace followed by a slow gentle kiss. 

“That was brilliant. Thank you.”

The smaller man had no words. He just nodded, his lips curving up into a smile, dimples catching the shadows. 

“You didn’t have to…”

“Shh, I wanted to.” He silenced his partner with another kiss and then sucked gently at Mitchell’s lower lip. “You’ve made this a memorable experience.”  
The vampire took Anders’ face in his hands and looked at him earnestly. “It’s been amazing for me too. I’m not usually into men. You’re an exception.” He brushed the god’s lips with his thumb. “You are so beautiful and desirable, everything I could ever want.”

His head ducked down and he kissed the bare shoulder in front of him, licking it slowly and then straightening back up. “I wish that things were different in my life. I wish that I had something to offer you.”

“I’m not in any position to make commitments either,” Anders said quietly. “I have to leave for Norway tomorrow, so we will just have to be grateful for tonight.”

“I think it’s already tomorrow.”

“It’s not tomorrow until we wake up. If this night is all I ever get I want to be able to remember that it was perfect.” 

“Then we will make it perfect,” Mitchell whispered into his ear.

He stood and offered Anders his hand. Together they toweled dry and when they hung up their towels Mitchell surprised him by lifting him easily and carrying him to bed as if he weighed nothing. He slid his arms around the brunette’s neck and let himself be lifted and transported, then gently laid on the bed.

Mitchell sat next to him and ran his fingers thorough golden waves. “I am going to make love to you. I want it to be the best you ever have so you will never forget me.”

Anders chuckled, “As if I ever could…”

************

The god missed his plane in the morning and the one in the afternoon and the one in the evening. 

When the phone rang he ignored it. Mother could go climb a tree…or become one…again…

Mitchell did at least phone home and call in sick to work. George asked too many questions. Annie was just happy for him. She was always happy when he was. She was amazing like that. 

On the third day they finally had to admit that although the mind was still willing - the body was not. There was only one thing they hadn’t done. It was the one thing Mitchell refused to even discuss.

Anders kissed him gently, sucking on his lower lip and then turned back to rest his head in the crook of Mitchell’s arm.

“Why not?” The god’s voice had a wheedling tone, but Bragi was absent. He didn’t work on the vampire, so it was pointless to invoke him. 

The vampire rolled his head so that he could look into those clear blue eyes. He smiled and reached over to toy with Anders’ hair. “I wish you’d let your hair grow out. I want to see those golden waves.”

“You are avoiding the question.”

There was a swift forced intake of hair and a sigh. “I’m not avoiding it. We settled it. There is nothing left to talk about.”

“You settled it,” Anders said, his voice sounding more petulant than he’d have preferred. “I didn’t.”

Mitchell rolled over and pulled the god into an embrace, kissing him lightly on the forehead. “We will have it again at a later date, or possibly you will have it with another partner.” He kissed the god’s nose and smiled. “Anal sex is graduate work, not something you do on a three day fling with the first man you’ve ever been with.”

Anders reached over and nipped the vampire’s collar bone sharply, getting a squeak of protest and a light slap on the ass for his cheekiness. “Stop being a dick about it. This is why I don’t like virgins. You think you are ready for this until you get to thinking about it and then the shit hits the fan and suddenly your find you aren’t as cool as you think you are. If we leave it at this you can go your merry way and look back at this as a lark, something kinky you did on a whim.”

The Kiwi tried to kiss him again, but Mitchell moved his face out of reach, his expression remained serious. “If I fuck you in the arse, there’s no going back…no way to tell yourself you aren’t one of them…whatever ugly word people down in New Zealand prefer to use to hate on gays.”

“I’m bi,” came the small protest.

“Probably. I know I am. But that’s just it — I KNOW what I am and it took me more than three days to figure it out and come to terms with it. I don’t want to be the one fucking up your head. I’ve done enough shit to people in my life and I don’t want to add this to it.”

He leaned down and took the god’s face in the palm of his hand. “I really care about you, Anders.” He kissed him tenderly. “I really do. I don’t want you to become one of my victims.”

He ignored the puzzled look at his choice of terms. “I want the best for you—for this whole experience to be positive so that you can use it to help yourself figure out what you want and who you are.” His eyes fluttered shut and then opened again, warm chocolate shining with love…and with tears. “I want someone just once to think back about me and remember good things.”

Anders drew him in and cradled Mitchell in his arms, holding him tightly, protecting him against the wounds of the past. “You are all the good things that ever were.” His voice was so soft even the vampire’s keen hearing almost missed them. “Thank you for everything you’ve given me…thank you…”

When the god and the vampire finally made it to the airport they stood hand-in-hand at the gate. Anders’ plane was huge, looming gray and foreboding on the runway outside the bank of windows. Neither of them wanted to look at it. They kept their eyes forced on each other. Ignoring disapproving looks, they embraced and kissed, then kissed again. 

“I can fly back through London on my way home,” Anders said refusing to give up his hold on Mitchell’s hand.

“I can get to London.” 

He wasn’t letting go either. Not even when they made the last call. They walked up to the check-through and ignored the bored attendant who was waiting for Anders to hurry the fuck up. 

“You’ll miss your plane…again…”

“I could live with that.”

Mitchell laughed and it was as if the sun had come out. “Well, if you don’t leave, you won’t be able to come back.”

Anders kissed him one more time and stepped through the scanner. “I will come back.”

Mitchell watched him walk away and waved once before dropping his hand.

“I know you will,” he whispered, tears misting his vision. “I know you will.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two and adore finding ways for them to be happy. But this was also written because I've seen so many fics lately that just have formerly straight men leaping into bed with another man and going straight for anal sex. It doesn't work like that in real life. With a few exceptions, It's hesitant and worrisome, stretching the boundaries, changing mind sets and, hopefully, ending with the man in question making the right choice. I'd love to see Anders and Mitchell both heal, but it wouldn't happen with a one or even a two night stand.
> 
> I'm already working on part two with the third and final part planned. It won't always be easy, but love will win out over convention and fear.


End file.
